


The Boy Who Grew

by times_have_changed



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-09
Updated: 2017-01-10
Packaged: 2018-09-15 21:26:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9257978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/times_have_changed/pseuds/times_have_changed
Summary: The next chapter will focus on Neville's first day or two at Hogwarts. It should be more detailed and we'll start meeting some of the other characters. Thanks for reading!





	1. Prophecy

  
  


_ The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches... born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies... and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not... and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives... the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies.... _

 

It was true, Alice and Frank Longbottom had defied Voldemort three times, and their child was indeed born at the end of July, but as far as anyone was concerned, the baby was a girl, so the prophecy instead defaulted to the son of the poor Potters. However, shortly thereafter, the Longbottoms would come to a terrible fate of their own, leaving Natalie to be cared for by ‘Gran’ Augusta Longbottom. The Longbottom child grew up very reserved, and showed few signs of magic, at least when others were looking. One day, Great-Uncle Algie was over and when Gran offered him some lemon meringue, he accidentally dropped the kid out of a window, but no harm was done, as the child bounced, much to everyone’s glee. Despite many years of worries and whispered bets over whether a child of Frank and Alice’s could possibly be a Squib, this display of magic meant that the Longbottom child would be invited to Hogwarts after all. The child spent most of every day playing outside in Gran’s garden, or not even playing, just...sitting. Muggle neighbors sometimes thought they heard the child whispering to the plants, and a rumor once went around the local children that the plants would even respond, on occasion. There was also a toad in the garden, which had, somehow or other, acquired the name Trevor, and he and the Longbottom child were inseparable.

 

Nearly eleven years after the prophecy was delivered, Augusta Longbottom heard a knock on the door of her study. She raised her eyebrows as the door slowly opened, revealing a small, trembling figure.

“Gran...”

“What is it, child?”

“I have something to ask...no, to tell you.”

“Well, go on then.”

“I...I think I’m a boy.”

Augusta paused to let the child’s words sink in. Despite the old lady’s uptight and old-fashioned ways, she was relieved that her grandchild had spoken up for once. People would talk, she knew, but that’s nothing she hadn’t dealt with before, and there were medicinal treatments, if the individual desired, both in the Muggle and the wizarding world, like Polyjuice potion, but more permanent.

“You know," she said, "I once knew a man...like you, I suppose. He fought alongside your parents in the First Wizarding War. His family moved at some point, to make it less suspicious for the Muggles around them, and you know, maybe that’s not such a bad idea.”

“Oh, Gran –” the boy exclaimed, “I wouldn’t want to cause any more trouble…not more than I already have, that is.”

“I’ve made up my mind. I’d already been thinking of it for some years, anyhow. It might be time for both of us to get a bit of a new start...it’s sometimes hard on me, all the neighbors who knew your mother and father as children, they always ask after them and sometimes I just don’t know what to say.”

“Oh…”

“We’d still have a garden, if that’s what’s worrying you.”

The boy let out an audible sigh of relief.

“Tell you what, I’ll even let you pick out some of the plants.”

“Really? When can we move?”

Gran chuckled, a sound that her grandson had rarely heard from her and, to tell the truth, had become a bit rusty for its infrequency. “Well first of all, will you be needing anything? A new name, perhaps, or some new clothes?”

“I would rather like a new name, and maybe some new clothes and a haircut before I start Hogwarts, if that’s not too much to ask. And...could you maybe explain everything to Professor Dumbledore, just so everything’s in place when I start school?”

“Yes. I think if anyone would understand, it’d be Albus. If I remember correctly, he had quite the rom–– no, that’s not for me to say. All right, so –– let’s start by finding you a new name. Now ‘Nigel,’ that’s an excellent name for a young lad!”

“Sorry Gran, no.”

“Hmm...Nicholas?” 

“That’s better, but it doesn’t quite fit, I don’t think. Could I maybe have a few days in your library to find one that fits better?”

“Just a few.”

“Oh, thank you, Gran!”

All of the sudden, the boy flung his arms around Augusta's waist, and she didn’t quite know how to respond, so she just awkwardly patted her grandson's head and said, “There, there,” while absentmindedly wondering what the Hogwarts years would bring for him.

 


	2. A New Village

Augusta knocked on her grandson’s door. He was ready - of course he was - for today they were going to Diagon Alley to buy him school supplies and a whole new wardrobe. First, they took care of the routine items on the list for first-years; pewter cauldrons and the like, and then they moved on to Madam Malkin’s Robes for All Occasions. The attendant bowed deeply and addressed the pair as they entered:

“Madam Longbottom, what brings you and the wee lass here today?”

“This is my grandson and we’re here to get him fitted for some school robes.”

“Oh, a lad! What’s your name, son?”

“I’m...working on it," Neville managed to say.

The man laughed and turned as if to pose the question to the boy's guardian. 

“You heard the boy, he’s working on it,” Gran snapped.

“Sorry, ma’am.” The attendant looked completely taken aback, but knew better than to question the old lady any further.

Once home from the shopping expedition, the boy cautiously unwrapped each brown paper package, and ran his hands over every new item in turn. He used his fingertips, which were callused from time spent in the garden, to carefully trace the outlines of the cauldron, the phials, the scales, and the telescope. Once he had tied all the bundles back up in hopes that Gran wouldn’t notice, he slipped on a new item of clothing - a soft burgundy sweater - then ran outside to find his best friend, Trevor. “Don’t tell Gran, but I’m going to let you see the library,” he whispered into the toad’s ear before slipping it into his pocket. He jogged up the spiral staircase to the dusty library, which was filled with overflowing bookshelves that went all the way to the ceiling. The room always reminded him of a mighty cathedral, with its stained-glass windows and cushioned wooden benches. He pulled out one of his favorite books, a heavy volume on medieval English history that contained several chapters on medicinal plant use during that period. After lugging the tome over to a nearby table and setting Trevor down beside it, he began leafing through the pages, pausing only when he reached a name or word that caught his eye. _Basil_...too old-fashioned for a boy in his generation. _Linden_ was really nice, but he wasn’t sure Gran would let him name himself after a tree genus. He flipped to a completely different chapter, one with diagrams of different noble families. He perused the names until one in particular jumped out – a surname, _Neville_. By looking under a heading that said _etymology_ , he learned that the name was derived from French and meant “new village.” Perfect, he thought. He picked up Trevor and whispered, “Hi Trevor. My name is Neville. Nice to meet you, I’m Neville.” The toad croaked back supportively. Neville stuffed Trevor back into his pocket and tripped down the stairs to Gran’s study, where she was sipping her afternoon tea.

“Gran - I think I’ve found it – a name, I mean!”

“Yes?”

“Neville. It was the last name of some nobles who died a long time ago, but more importantly, it means new village, and since we’re going to be moving, I thought maybe…” he trailed off.

“Neville. Neville Longbottom, son of Alice and Frank Longbottom.” She considered the way the words fit together, then nodded approvingly. “I’ll let Alb- that is, Professor Dumbledore know when I meet with him tomorrow. I think it’s getting to be past your bedtime.” She nodded curtly, and thus dismissed, Neville started to make his way towards the stairs.

“One more thing.” Neville turned around and saw that the old lady had tears in her eyes.

“Goodnight, Neville.”

“Goodnight, Gran.”

Neville stumbled up the stairs with a wide smile on his face. As he fell asleep, he became vaguely aware that he’d forgotten to return Trevor to the garden. He was too exhausted from the excitement of the day to do anything about it, so he just put the toad in the pocket of his pajama shirt, and fell asleep whispering happily, “Trevor, my name’s Neville.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter will focus on Neville's first day or two at Hogwarts. It should be more detailed and we'll start meeting some of the other characters. Thanks for reading!


	3. Chapter 3

On the morning of September 1st, Neville and his grandmother arrived on platform 9 and ¾ with plenty of time to spare. Gran gossiped with other adults who seemed to have been friends of the family for centuries while Neville loaded his trunks onto the Hogwarts Express. There were so many kids his age that he had never seen before. People were nearly shouting at one another to be heard above the sound of the train. In all of the excitement, Trevor somehow managed to slip away, but by the time Neville noticed, it was too late to do anything except hope that he’d find the toad on the train. After saying an awkward goodbye to Gran and promising to write her every week, he boarded the Hogwarts express, shivering slightly from both anxiety and hope. He passed several compartments that were filled with chattering kids who all seemed to know one another, either from previous years at Hogwarts or because their families were friends. Finally, he reached a compartment that was empty except for a girl about his age with bushy brown hair and buck teeth who was surrounded by a large pile of open textbooks. He raised a tentative hand and tapped softly on the glass. The girl gestured for him to open the door. 

“Hey,” Neville said, his voice barely above a whisper, “can I come in?”  
“I don’t see why not,” the girl shrugged, “no one else seems to want to, anyway. I’m Hermione Granger, what’s your name? Are you also a first-year?”  
“Neville. Neville Longbottom. And yes.” He was still standing.  
“Well, aren’t you going to sit down?”  
“Do you mind?”  
“I invited you in, didn’t I?” Hermione smiled at him as he sat down across from her.  
“Are - are you studying already? You don’t think we’re going to be tested as soon as we get there, do you?” Neville asked, looking a little nauseous.  
“Oooh! I certainly hope so! I’ve been studying ever since I got these books – I’ve memorized all the spells and everything. After I finished with the incantations from the Standard Book of Spells, Grade 1, I went back to Flourish and Blotts and tried to buy Grade 2, but the owner wouldn’t sell it to me...can you believe that? I had counted out the right amount of wizarding currency and everything!" Hermione looked even more animated than she had when she had been leafing through the textbooks for what must have been the forty-seventh time. 

Neville smiled weakly and hoped the other students weren’t all this bookish.  
“Anyway, tell me about you. Is your family magical or are you the first in your family too?”  
“No, everyone in my family is magical. They thought I was a Squib for the longest time, but I guess I’m not, since I’m here.”

Hermione’s face lit up. “I’ve read all about Squibs! So then, what percent of magical ability do you think is genetic versus, I suppose, environmental?”

Neville shrugged. He had never given the matter much thought beyond worrying whether or not he was one.

“Let’s see. What’s your best subject? In primary school, my best subject was arithmetic, but I suppose you might not have gone to primary school.”

He shrugged again. “Dunno. My Gran taught me the basics, but I prefer to be outside.”

“Oh.” Hermione’s face fell. “What do you do outside?”

“Just...I weed and spend time with the plants and - Trevor!”  
“Who’s Trevor?” Hermione looked perplexed.  
“My toad, I almost forgot about him! I lost him when I was still on the platform, but he might have made it onto the train anyway.”  
“C’mon,” Hermione instructed, jumping to her feet.  
“What are you doing?”  
“We have to find Trevor, don’t we?”  
“You’re going to help me?”  
“Obviously.”  
Neville smiled in thanks, and the pair left the compartment.

As they walked the length of the train, Hermione talked at Neville about the layout of the Hogwarts Express and the most methodical way to go about their search, while Neville scrounged about on his knees and checked each dusty corner for signs of his beloved toad.

Eventually, they came to a compartment occupied by two boys about their age. One had tousled jet-black hair and the other had orange hair and a smattering of freckles on either side of his nose. The orange-haired one was holding a pet rat and jabbing it repeatedly with his wand. Hermione slid open the door without knocking first.  
“Has anyone seen a toad? Neville's lost one," she said.

"We've already told him we haven't seen it," said the orange-haired boy, but Hermione’s attention was drawn to the wand in his hand.  
"Oh, are you doing magic? Let's see it, then," she demanded, taking a seat.  
The boy looked surprised, but merely said, "Er -- all right....Sunshine, daisies, butter mellow, Turn this stupid, fat rat yellow.”  
Nothing happened and Hermione raised her eyebrows in skepticism, before declaring the spell to be useless and delivering a similar speech about her academic preparation to the one Neville had heard earlier. “Anyway, I’m Hermione Granger, who are you?” The two other boys looked just as astonished by this speech as Neville had, much to his relief. "I'm Ron Weasley," the orange-haired boy said, rubbing his nose. "And I’m Harry Potter," said the one with black hair. Hermione’s face lit up, “I’ve read all about you! Of course, our textbooks don’t go far enough into modern times to cover you, but you’re in three or four other books that I bought just for fun.”  
Harry seemed astonished by this information, and Neville shrugged. He’d maybe heard the name Harry Potter on occasion, but it didn’t ring much of a bell beyond that.  
“How can you not know that?” Hermione looked disdainful, Anyway, what houses do you three think you’ll be in? From what I’ve heard, I’m hoping I’ll be in Gryffindor – did you know Professor Dumbledore himself was in it? Although I suppose it’d be all right if I was in Ravenclaw. Anyway, come on, Neville, it’s high time we resumed the search for Trevor.” And with that, Hermione pulled Neville out of the compartment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter will pick up right about where this one left off and will cover up until Neville falls asleep in his four-poster bed for the first time.


End file.
